Love Letters
by moon71
Summary: Growing up is never easy. Alexander and Hephaestion know they're in love, but the question remains: which sort of love is right for them? Last chapter here at last!
1. Chapter 1

**LOVE LETTERS**** by Moon71**

**SUMMARY: **Growing up is never easy. Alexander and Hephaestion know they're in love, but the question remains: which sort of love is right for them? Hephaestion knows what he wants but Alexander isn't so sure. If they can't agree will he lose Hephaestion forever?

**RATING: **T for sexy(ish) stuff, not to mention lots of tears before bedtime and a rather heavy dose of teenage angst

**DISCLAIMER: **Not mine; not (ever) based on Stone's film and not, in spite of the notes below, not based on Renault's _Fire from Heaven_ either.

**DEDICATION:**To all those who continue to read and (hopefully!) enjoy my stories. Sorry that I have been so slow to post, to review and to reply to reviews or PMs, but I hope this makes up for it a little!

**STORY NOTES: **I think this is only the second or third Alexander story I ever wrote… probably between _A choice of words _and _The Ivory Eros. _It was originally included in Nadja Lee's lovely Alexander Fanzine which is one of the reasons I've never posted it, but as I've had no feedback on it there, I think enough time has elapsed to post it here.

I am still in two minds about this story – for me, now, it's too angsty and too melodramatic and the boys are just a bit too emotional… and I feel rather too acutely the influence of Mary Renault – that is to say, I think at the time I was writing this partly in response to her rather irritatingly chaste and self-righteous Alexander and her equally (for me) rather too drudging and passive Hephaestion. Since then I've read so many other Alexander novels and written so many Alexander stories of my own that just one other person's vision hardly matters anymore.

Having said that, I am quite happy with the scenes with Philip and the setting of the changing seasons, and I would certainly be happy to know what everyone else thinks of this!

* * *

A moment of quiet had descended over the riders as they turned their horses back towards Mieza. Alexander had initially been nervous when his father had arrived, pulling him out of his lessons to take him riding; he had even asked Hephaestion to come with them. Hephaestion, however, had politely declined, and once Alexander and Philip had set out, Alexander found he was grateful for his friend's tact. He had quickly begun to enjoy this time alone with his father, who, away from the charged, hedonistic clamour of the Court and all its tensions, jealousies and political manoeuvring, seemed relaxed and attentive to his son, listening indulgently to Alexander's increasingly frenetic flow of words.

Alexander loved to talk; to express his ideas and share his thoughts; he had been shy to do so with his father initially; but once his first attempts at conversation had been warmly encouraged there had been no stopping him.

When the silence lengthened, Alexander glanced toward his father. He met his one-eyed gaze with a bashful smile, at once attracted and unsettled by his intense masculinity. Philip grinned at him. "You are growing up so fast, my son," he observed, "and in so many ways… tell me, what's this I hear about you taking up with Amyntor's son?"

Alexander suddenly felt as if a cloud had passed over the sun. He should have known this short interlude of unity with his father could not last. Who had been sending tales back to Pella? Philotas? Cassander? Maybe neither; they weren't the only ones with fathers at Court. It might even have been Aristotle. "I haven't 'taken up' with anyone, Father," he replied sharply, his face growing hot, "Hephaestion is my best friend!"

Philip laughed loudly, but not unkindly, at his son's indignation. "Peace, Alexander… I'm not criticising you! It's quite natural for a healthy young man like you to have a… _best friend_…" he gave another short chuckle, leaning over to cuff Alexander affectionately on the ear. "How big the boy's grown… I hardly recognised him back there! He'll be taller than his father by the end of the year if he keeps it up!"

Alexander could not suppress a sigh as he listened to his father's words; he was already self-conscious about his small stature and, to his own mind, rather girlish looks, without hearing Philip praising Hephaestion. With a sensitivity that surprised his son, Philip leaned over once more, ruffling Alexander's golden curls. "Don't be downcast, my son," he joked, "as many women will be pleased to tell their men, size isn't everything!"

The words had been intended to cheer him, but the bawdy reference only increased Alexander's discomfort. "I would never be jealous of Hephaestion," he said stiffly, hoping his father would change the subject.

"I wouldn't blame you if you were," Philip replied cheerfully, "he's grown very handsome too… come on, don't tell me you haven't noticed! You're as much my son as your mother's, whatever she says…" He nodded approvingly, as if examining Hephaestion in his mind's eye. "A fine physique the boy's developing; broad shoulders, legs like a wild colt… nice firm arse…"

"I love him, Father!" Alexander blurted out the words before he could stop himself. Philip drew up the reins of his horse and turned to his son with a look of gentle reproach, though whether at the implied accusation or the sentimentality Alexander's words conveyed, Alexander could not be sure.

Keeping his eyes down, he nudged his horse gently forward. His mind was spinning. _I love him,_ his own words echoed endlessly in his ears, _I love him, I love him._

Well, of course he loved him; but somehow, spoken out loud, to his father, knowing what such words meant to a man with Philip's appetites, changed everything. Alexander had long appreciated Hephaestion's beauty in the privacy of his own heart; it had filled him with love and pride because it seemed to exemplify their perfect friendship, almost as if Hephaestion was made beautiful by Alexander's love.

Could there not be some truth in that, after all? Certainly it was when Alexander saw the warmth in his friend's eyes, or was clasped close in his arms, that he could feel his most self-assured, could think of himself as attractive, manly, even heroic. But if Philip had also noticed Hephaestion's beauty, then surely others had too? And their appreciation might not be as chaste and pure as Alexander's.

The thought of some man wanting Hephaestion for his _eromenos,_ of treating him the way Alexander had seen many youths treated at Court, filled him with panic. The thought that his father might assume that Alexander was _already_ treating Hephaestion like that; that he might think of using Hephaestion while he was still young and… fresh… and then throwing him over for another, younger, fresher boy, sickened him. They were supposed to outgrow each other; in a few years, people would naturally expect them both to take up with younger boys, then to marry. Alexander's head began to ache.

"Tell me, my son," Philip said softly, breaking in to Alexander's rapid thoughts, "does it hurt to think as deeply as you do? You certainly don't seem to enjoy it…" Alexander glanced up at his father, wary of mockery, but Philip just smiled. "You're still so young, in so many ways…"

Alexander wanted to protest, but suddenly he held back. Young, yes. He wanted to be young for just a little longer… "Race me, Father!" he cried suddenly, digging in his heels before he could second guess himself. To his relief, Philip laughed boisterously and urged his horse on after him.

* * *

He had taken his leave of his father in renewed good spirits, warmed by the embrace Philip had given him upon parting and excited, almost in spite of himself, by the promise of another visit, "matters at Court permitting." Contentedly he headed for the room he shared with Hephaestion, confident in the expectation of finding his dear friend waiting for him with the study notes he had promised to keep of the lessons Alexander had missed.

But when he arrived, the room was empty. The lamps had not even been lit. Frowning, Alexander headed back outside, gazing about in the fading light of early spring for some sign of Hephaestion.

He was about to give up, assuming Hephaestion must be inside after all, when he picked up the faint murmur of voices. A moment later he found his friend sitting on a low wall on the very edge of the compound, leaning back over his shoulder to talk to the two youths who stood on the other side of the wall. Both were tall, one several inches taller than Hephaestion, and as Alexander drew closer he saw they were older than he had thought, healthy, handsome young men several years older than any of the boys who shared the Prince's studies.

Was it just his imagination, or was Hephaestion blushing? He certainly had a small, almost coy smile on his lips; one Alexander had never seen before. And wasn't the taller of the two men brazenly staring at Hephaestion's long legs as he swung them carelessly? A cold, sickly feeling spread through Alexander's body. It wasn't jealousy; at least not yet. Suddenly the cool, innocent spring air seemed charged with raw, heavy sexuality. Suddenly Hephaestion was not just his special friend, he was nearly a man, who had the urges and desires of a man. Who might, just as suddenly, outgrow his boyish, younger friend in favour of older, rougher, more sensual men.

Then Hephaestion straight up into Alexander's eyes and his comely face lit up with a grin that seemed for Alexander alone. With a quick, almost dismissive word to his companions, he jumped down from the wall and ran over to the prince, hesitating diffidently before putting his arm about Alexander's shoulders. "Alexander! Come on, I asked them to keep supper back for both of us so we could eat together," Hephaestion began a little breathlessly, adding in a softer tone, "how was your ride…?"

Alexander glanced back at the two young men who lingered by the wall before slipping his arm deliberately around Hephaestion's waist. The other boy glanced down at him, surprised but obviously pleased; drawing just a little closer to allow Alexander to tighten his grip. His body was almost feverishly hot beneath his thin chiton. "Who were those men, Hephaestion?" Alexander asked, trying to keep his tone neutral. The shorter one of the two had moved away, but his companion, the one who had gazed so intently at Hephaestion, still remained, watching them, until his friend called him away.

"Oh… just boys from the village," Hephaestion replied quickly and dismissively. "But tell me about today! Did you have fun? What did the King say?"

"He – he said you - he said he was pleased that we were friends," Alexander changed his mind in mid sentence, not sure if he really wanted to see Hephaestion's reaction to Philip's flattering words.

Hephaestion glowed happily; Alexander knew his friend held a quiet, childish affection for the King, who reminded him of his own father and uncles, or at least that was how Hephaestion explained it. Alexander found himself wondering if it was more than that. An adolescent crush, perhaps? He wouldn't be the first youth to fall hopelessly in love with Philip. Alexander felt his heart squeeze painfully. He couldn't lose Hephaestion to his father, to that young man back by the wall; to anyone!

Without thinking twice, he turned and threw his arms about Hephaestion's neck, leaning up to press a desperate, impulsive kiss to his lips. Hephaestion stared at him, wide eyed, a full spectrum of emotions playing over his face too fast for Alexander to read. "I love you, Hephaestion," Alexander gasped, "I really do love you!"

Hephaestion's arms, which had been stealing tentatively about Alexander's waist, suddenly tightened crushingly and Alexander caught his breath as Hephaestion buried his face in the sensitive skin of his neck. Something coarse scratched at him as Hephaestion shifted his head slightly to speak; Alexander had not noticed until now that Hephaestion's beard had started. "I love you too, Alexander," he heard his friend say with a breathless laugh, "oh, I love you too…"

To Be Continued…


	2. Chapter 2

**LOVE LETTERS by Moon71**

**Chapter 2: **Alexander and Hephaestion love one another and know it. But they're about to realise they have very different ideas about how that love should be expressed…

**NOTES: **Let the angst commence! Oh well, it's the holiday season so I suppose it fits well with spending too much money, eating too much chocolate and stuffing your face with roast turkey and Christmas pudding? Guilty pleasures, guilty pleasures…

Thank you to all who gave this story such an overwhelmingly warm reception on FFnet and LJ. I won't have much time to reply until after Christmas but I wish you all a very happy Christmas (even if you don't celebrate it!) with lots of blessings, peace and happiness to come.

* * *

They collapsed together at the foot of a tree heavily laden with blossom, panting and laughing. "You – may be – _taller_ – my friend …" Alexander gasped, rolling over on the grass and aiming a clumsy kick at Hephaestion, "but… _I_… am faster…!"

Hephaestion gulped and shook his head. "You… you… always _cheat!"_

Alexander shifted abruptly from his back onto his side, glaring indignantly at Hephaestion. "I do _not _cheat!"

"You do, and I think you know it," his friend replied, stretching his arms back and clasping his hands behind his head, his eyes fixed resolutely upon the sky overhead. Though he was smiling, there was something abstracted, almost sad in the tone of his voice.

"How!" Alexander demanded, digging him playfully in the ribs, wanting to lighten his mood. Hephaestion had seemed more and more restive since the early spring, and Alexander did not like it. Nor did he much care for the intense, brooding looks he too often found Hephaestion casting upon him, or the way he would quickly look away when Alexander caught him at it.

"When you're about to challenge me," Hephaestion answered slowly, "to a race, or a match, or even a debate, you strike at me with that smile of yours…" he drew a deep sigh, sending an odd little shiver down Alexander's spine. "And it… it dazzles me, so I lose concentration, and you get a head start!"

"_Hephaestion!" _Alexander giggled, feeling his cheeks growing warm, "of all the poor excuses – I've heard of the sun dazzling someone, but a smile!"

"But nobody smiles like you," Hephaestion turned his head towards Alexander, his expression grave, "I love your smile, Alexander."

"Hephaestion…!" Alexander looked down into his eyes, his whole body glowing with love, "I love yours too… I love everything about you… I am so blessed to have you…"

He sighed sleepily, breathing in the sweet scent of the blossoms and marvelling at his own inner peace. So often peace was something which evaded him, driven as he was even at his young age by so many conflicting desires and ambitions, haunted by so many unanswerable questions. Hephaestion brought this peace, channelled from the Gods themselves!

Alexander shifted closer, intending to rest his head on Hephaestion's chest as he had done many times before. But as Hephaestion's arms came up to encircle him, the other boy suddenly rolled over, pinning Alexander beneath him. Alexander chuckled, thinking Hephaestion wanted to wrestle, but Hephaestion simply held him down, looking deeply into his eyes. Alexander could feel how fast Hephaestion's heart was beating against his own.

"Oh Alexander…" Hephaestion breathed, softy brushing back Alexander's golden curls as he lowered his head to his friend's, "you are so… beautiful…" As he spoke, his mouth pressed down upon Alexander's.

Alexander liked to be kissed by Hephaestion; his lips were soft and warm and his breath was sweet. Since the day of his father's visit, they had exchanged a number of light, tender kisses. Alexander loved to be kissed and cuddled, though he knew it was not particularly manly, and was pleased that Hephaestion seemed to feel the same way.

But this kiss was different. It lingered. When Hephaestion finally drew away, it was to press his cheek against Alexander's, breathing hotly into Alexander's ear. "Sweet Aphrodite, how I love you…"

"Hephaestion…" Alexander began in a thin voice as Hephaestion's hand began to slide gently down his side to his belly. Hephaestion shifted and Alexander gasped as he felt something hard pressing against his thigh.

"_My Alexander…"_ Hephaestion murmured, just as his hand slipped between Alexander's legs.

"Hephaestion, _no!" _Alexander caught roughly at his hand. Hephaestion clasped Alexander's fingers, pressing them against his own thigh as his lips brushed Alexander's throat.

"_I know… my Alexander… I know…" _Small, fevered kisses covered Alexander's face,_ "but you mustn't… be afraid… please let me touch you… I love you so…" _Hephaestion's body rubbed against his, _"I would… oh, Eros, son of Aphrodite...!" _a moaned exclamation, little short of a prayer_, "never…hurt you…" _Hephaestion's hand drew Alexander's gently but insistently to that hardness between his legs.

Alexander snatched his hand away. "Hephaestion, I said _stop it!"_

Hephaestion drew back, breathing quickly, his eyes wide with confusion and growing dismay. "Alexander, I…" he began, then, responding to Alexander's angry glare, "I'm sorry, I only wanted to show you…"

"I think you've shown me enough, don't you?" Alexander lowered his flashing eyes to Hephaestion's groin before glaring accusatively up at his friend once more.

Hephaestion gazed back at him in such dismay that for a horrible moment Alexander feared he would actually begin to cry. Hephaestion hardly ever cried, even if he got a beating. It was Alexander who was usually the hot-blooded, emotional one. "I'm so sorry, I thought… the other day, when you… I thought that you… I didn't mean… Oh _Gods!"_ Quickly he rolled off Alexander and sat up, drawing his knees up to his chest and burying his face between them.

Alexander continued to stare indignantly across at him. Why? Why did Hephaestion have to start something like that? Was he seriously trying to suggest that it was _Alexander _who had encouraged him? He resented the sudden shattering of that brief, blissful moment of peace, feeling a gullible fool for thinking it Hephaestion's gift; worse, his body was still tingling strangely from his friend's touches and bringing to mind feelings he did not want to contemplate.

"Hephaestion, what did you think you were doing? What possessed you? We're not a couple of farm boys or a couple of sex-starved soldiers! I thought you understood, I thought you were different! Why did you have to ruin it? You're just like all the others! How can you say you love me when you… you…"

"But I _do,_ I…" When Hephaestion briefly raised his head, his face was flushed; his expression was one of utter mortification. And sure enough, those normally serene dark eyes were brimming with tears.

At once Alexander regretted his harshness. "Hephaestion…!" Alexander cried, reaching out, but too late. Hephaestion sprang to his feet so fast for a moment Alexander thought he meant to attack him and then suddenly he was gone, fleeing back to the school grounds before Alexander could collect himself to follow.

* * *

It was twilight before Alexander made his way back to the grounds; he affected an air of mild curiosity as he appeared at the evening meal and asked one of the other boys where Hephaestion was; when he was informed that his friend had gone to bed early with a stomach ache, he forced himself to sit through supper and make bright chatter with his fellow students, though he had very little appetite. At least he was calm, and knew what to do and say; he had sat under that tree until the light faded, searching for a solution and had finally decided that a rational approach would be best.

When the meal was finally over, he slipped away with the bread, cheese and watered wine he had saved and entered his room. "Hephaestion…?" he whispered into the darkness.

Silence.

"Hephaestion, please talk to me… I'm not angry, I was…" he hesitated; he hated to admit when he was wrong. "I was unkind to you, earlier, I'm… sorry, but I'll make it up to you, I promise."

A movement in the shadows; Hephaestion turned over on his bed, and Alexander caught the faint glint of his eyes upon him, but still no answer. "I brought you something to eat, I thought you might be hungry… you don't really have a stomach ache, do you?"

A shuffling; a creaking of the wooden bed. Hephaestion had sat up. With a small sigh, Alexander lit the lamp on the table by his bed and sat down. Hephaestion blinked at him with reddened but dry eyes, his expression apprehensive. Taking a deep breath, Alexander began.

It was a misunderstanding, he explained; Hephaestion had got swept away in the moment, it was natural enough for boys their age to have those sorts of feelings, Alexander wasn't naïve about these things, he'd spent enough time in the company of rough, common soldiers to know what went on. (He didn't feel much like discussing what he'd also seen going on at Court.)

But their friendship was purer, nobler, superior to that; they were lovers in their hearts and souls. They should not give in to the base urges of the body; that would lower them, taint the quality of their spirits; cloud their judgement with lust, possessiveness, petty jealousy; might even drive them apart. Once they had _both_ (he magnanimously put great emphasis on this last word) come to terms with their new physical longings, and learned to control them, they would both be happier; they would both have peace and their friendship would be truly perfect. And would last forever.

Hephaestion listened to this speech in silence, staring down at the plate of food Alexander had placed before him. Finally he said in a flat, rather muffled voice, "what of Achilles and Patroklos? Did their… physical longings…" he trailed off, as if losing heart, poking distractedly at a hunk of bread.

"They lived in a different time, closer to the Gods," Alexander answered quickly, slightly disconcerted by Hephaestion's argument, "a nobler time… people respected them, nobody thought of… of trying to drive them apart…" he met Hephaestion's gaze for the first time as he said this, letting his expression soften. "I would die if anything came between us, Hephaestion…!"

"Nothing – no-one - ever will, Alexander," Hephaestion replied, with a new tenderness that filled Alexander with relief, "but…"

"Please Hephaestion," Alexander cried, moving quickly across to Hephaestion's bed to slip his arms about his friend's waist; Hephaestion was naked except for his loincloth and his skin was warm and very slightly moist and felt pleasant, but Alexander ignored his response to it. "I know I'm right; you will too when you've had time to think about it… I know you're older, but I… I've seen things that you… anyway, I know what's right for us, will you trust me in this?"

"Are we…" Hephaestion swallowed and turned his head away, his arms hanging limp by his sides, "are we… never to be… to be lovers, then?"

"But – dearest Hephaestion…" Alexander gently reached up and turned Hephaestion's face to his, though his friend still refused to look at him, "aren't we lovers already?"

At last Hephaestion's eyes shifted to his, but the look of incredulity in them was hardly reassuring. _"What…?"_

"I mean…" Alexander felt his cheeks burning as he smiled shyly. "I am very much in love with you, you must know that. And I hope you feel the same for me?"

Slowly, expressionlessly, Hephaestion nodded. "Yes, Alexander."

Alexander frowned. This was not quite the response he had dreamed of. Hephaestion sounded more like a soldier forcing himself to accept an unappealing order than a youth acknowledging he loved, and was loved by, a prince. Anxiously he leaned closer; when his friend still made no move to return his embrace, he whispered, "please kiss me, Hephaestion…"

Hephaestion looked at him for a long moment, chewing on his own lip; Alexander could feel the tension in his body and was worried he was going to begin arguing again. But then he touched Alexander's cheek with soothing fingers and kissed him sweetly on the mouth; this kiss lingered too, but went no further.

Hephaestion put out the lamp and let Alexander settle into his arms as he lay back on the bed. It was only much later, when Alexander leaned up to kiss his cheek as he slipped out of Hephaestion's bed to his own, that his lips encountered the salty wetness of fresh tears.

TBC


	3. Chapter 3

**LOVE LETTERS by Moon71**

**Chapter 3: **Alexander hopes he's settled matters once and for all, but he's in for a little surprise. It seems someone else has their eye on his beloved Hephaestion…

**NOTES: **Happy New Year to you all!!! Thank you yet again for all the kind emails and messages. I love you all! As of tomorrow I will be back at work and probably doing overtime too, but I will try to respond to any messages and post the next bit on the weekend (?) Meanwhile, enjoy this latest instalment! Sorry if it's short - it seemed the best place to cut it!

* * *

Spring ripened into early summer; blossoms fell and fresh green leaves burst upon the branches of their favoured tree. They sprawled beneath it, enjoying its gentle, dappled shade. "From my father," Alexander told Hephaestion, looking up from the letter he was reading, "he has returned to Pella and says he might be able to come to see me in three days…"

"I'm pleased for you, Alexander," Hephaestion murmured, looking up briefly to give Alexander a small smile. Alexander watched the smile fade quickly to a frown as his friend returned to his own letter.

"Is it from your mother?" Alexander asked, keeping his tone light; he usually liked Hephaestion to read him his mother's letters, which were bursting with local gossip and admonishments for Hephaestion to keep warm, ride carefully, study hard, respect his tutor and not overexert himself in the gymnasium, and always ending with warm words for Alexander.

Hephaestion shook his head. "It… Oh, it doesn't matter…!"

"Tell me, Hephaestion!"

"It… is from Andromachus, the son of my father's kinsman Iphicles… we last met at my cousin's wedding to his sister…"

Alexander sat up uneasily, seeing a pink flush creep across Hephaestion's cheeks. "What does he want?"

Hephaestion bit his lip, staring at the letter a moment longer before raising his dark eyes to Alexander's with a strange intensity. "He… asks to become my _erastes."_

"_What?"_ Alexander snatched the letter from Hephaestion's hand, but his eyes were too blurred with rage to take in the words upon it. Hephaestion continued to look at him in heavy silence. _"Who does he think he is?_ Doesn't he know that you're…"

"That I'm what?"

Alexander stared at him, the beginning of panic tightening his chest. "That… you're _mine!"_

Their gazes locked, both their faces glowing hotly with an overwhelming mixture of anger, confusion and love. "Oh Alexander…" Hephaestion whispered, that loving warmth glowing in his eyes for the first time in what seemed so long. Alexander caught his breath as he reached out and gathered him close; leaning in as if he meant to kiss him.

Heat broke out over Alexander's skin; his heart thumped. Never before had a simple caress from his friend made him feel so uneasy. Would it end there? What if it didn't? If he pulled away this time, would Hephaestion turn to another for what he desired? Would he consent to become the _eromenos_ of this Andromachus after all?

Hephaestion must have felt the tension in him, for suddenly he frowned and looked away, releasing him and picking up the crumpled letter, smoothing it out against his knee and reading it again in silence. Alexander continued to watch him like a hawk. "I will speak to him," he declared, "set him straight. Make it clear…"

"_No!"_ Hephaestion snapped, "it has nothing to do with you!"

"Hephaestion…!"

"I said stay out of it, Alexander! There is nothing dishonourable in it," Hephaestion added in a lower tone, "he has already asked my father's permission to… to… court me…"

Alexander swallowed. "Does your father want you to accept him? If they're putting any pressure on you, I'll…"

"Alexander, I said I don't need your help. No-one is pressuring me; they're leaving the choice to me. No-one intended any disrespect to you," he added with irony, "my family don't make a habit of boasting about my friendship with the Prince."

"Hephaestion, I didn't mean that!"

Hephaestion did not answer and a sullen silence deepened between them. Whatever they talked about these days, they seemed to end up misunderstanding and arguing. And Alexander was sure he was not imagining a new coldness from his beloved friend.

Hephaestion had been a little shy to ask for an embrace or take a kiss when they had first become friends, uncertain of how far he should forget himself with the Prince; but his tactile nature had responded eagerly to Alexander's need for demonstrations of affection.

Now, it seemed Alexander had to ask just for the briefest cuddle and what was worse, with that disturbing encounter still hovering at the back of his mind, he was wary of being too forward himself for fear of creating yet another misunderstanding or being accused of hypocrisy. How suddenly this gulf had opened up between them… and how vast it seemed to be growing. They could no longer agree even on the implications of a simple caress.

"You… don't really want to accept this… Andromachus, do you?" Alexander whispered.

Again that irritatingly probing look, as if Hephaestion was scrutinising his soul.

Then his friend looked away and did not answer.

TBC


	4. Chapter 4

**LOVE LETTERS by Moon71**

**Chapter 4: **Summer arrives and it looks as though matters are settled amicably with Hephaestion, but Alexander is beginning to realise things will never be same…

**NOTES: **Not much to say here except thank you for the warm response so many of you continue to give this story. I'm sorry I don't always reply to reviews but I do read and take note of each one! Read on, my dear ones…

* * *

"…_Forgive me!"_

Alexander woke with a start, for a second thinking it was he who had called out in his sleep. But then he realised it was Hephaestion, who had been tossing restlessly in the bed next to his. Alexander stared across at him through the shadows, astonished to find himself reluctant to approach his friend's bed, even more so to learn the contents of the dream which had caused him to call out. Ashamed of his own weakness, he slipped out of his bed and went to Hephaestion's.

The other youth turned sharply towards him, a small whimper of distress escaping him before he caught his breath. Suddenly this was Alexander's Hephaestion; the little boy with whom he had, quickly if unconsciously, fallen in love while they played carelessly in the palace grounds. He had no qualms about climbing into his bed, wrapping his arms about him, kissing his cheek; offering comfort. He gave a deep, happy sigh as Hephaestion stroked his hair.

"I'm… sorry, Alexander…" Hephaestion whispered tremulously.

"For what, my love?" The endearment slipped from Alexander's lips before he could think, warm and filled with relief as he was just then. He felt Hephaestion's head shift on the pillow, his arms tighten about him.

"It doesn't matter."

* * *

_My dearest… my love._

_How much it means to call you that, even in a letter. Forgive me for writing to you, forgive me if any word I write disgusts you or causes you pain. I do not know where else to turn, for I cannot risk speaking out loud. _

_I have tried, I have tried so hard, but I don't think I can do it. I listened to your words, I followed your arguments, I__ vowed to try to think as you do; forgive me I couldn't vow to do so absolutely, but to break a vow made in your name – that I couldn't do. _

_I love you. I have loved you for a long time. You know that, I have told you that. But my love is not just the love of the heart, it is the love of the body. Yes, I love your body as I love your heart and your soul. If only you would let me show you the reverence with which I would treat it! I would never do anything to make you feel ashamed__ or debased or in any way less flawless than you are to me now…_

* * *

"The Gods have blessed us with such a beautiful day, Hephaestion," Alexander declared as they dismounted from their horses and lead them slowly down to the small stream. The summer heat had grown heavy and their chitons clung damply to their bodies. "I have so many ambitions, am tormented by the urge to ride away from here to new and exotic lands, to heroic adventures, conquest and glory… yet today it saddens me to think that soon enough we must leave behind such simple pleasures as a sunny day, a cool stream and the company of a dear friend…"

Hephaestion smiled at him. "If I had your eloquence, Alexander," he said wistfully, "what couldn't be mine…?"

"Is there something you want, Hephaestion?" Alexander asked eagerly, forgetting his poetic mood at once and coming over to take his hand, "whatever it is, tell me and if I can manage it, it's yours!"

"Alexander…" Hephaestion's smile wavered as he looked down into the other boy's imploring face. "All I want now is a bathe in the stream!" Stripping off his clothes, he plunged into the crystalline waters with a whoop of pure childish pleasure. Laughing, Alexander joined him and they splashed about, wrestling playfully and ducking their heated faces into the cold depths.

Finally they dropped shivering on to the bank where the sun beat down hot upon their glistening skin. Wave after wave of drowsiness swept over Alexander as he lay upon his belly, head resting upon his folded arms, and he was almost asleep when he felt Hephaistion's chilly fingers feather across his back.

Alexander gave a small, sleepy moan. He couldn't help it; Hephaestion's touch was so gentle that it brought a pleasant shiver down his spine. For a moment the touch was withdrawn, but then it was back, this time lower, following the curve of Alexander's bottom. Alexander remained still, keeping his breathing regular, letting Hephaestion think him asleep. The last time he had overreacted; this time, in spite of himself, he decided to practice caution.

For a moment Hephaestion simply stroked him, but then the hand lightly squeezed his buttocks; finally trailed over his thighs, sliding down between them.

Suddenly the touch was gone. Alexander remained frozen, half expecting it to return with more determination and not sure what he would do if it did. But when Hephaestion came closer again, it was only to smooth away Alexander's golden curls and press a tender kiss to the back of his neck, as if in silent gratitude for his forbearance. He heard him sigh, then turn over on to his front some inches away from Alexander. Alexander wondered if he was asleep, but did not quite have the courage to check; he lay as he had, his heart beating very fast.

TBC


	5. Chapter 5

**LOVE LETTERS by Moon71**

**Chapter 5: **Thing seem to be going from bad to worse for Alexander as he and Hephaestion grow ever farther apart.

**NOTES: **I can only apologise for the slowness of my updating. First a computer virus, then the Explorer thing (no internet at work!!! Horror of horrors!) and finally the death of my home wireless connection... it just isn't good for happy updating. But I hope you'll forgive me and read on. Though I warn in advance there could be more delays, I emphasise again the actually story was finished yonks ago and WILL be posted sooner or later.

One last word – if anyone has emailed, PM'd or LJ'd me and hasn't got a response, PLEASE prompt me – I have had so little access to my email of late that I may well have missed someone, and it's never intentional.

_

* * *

_

Dearest Love,

_How can you do it? How can you separate love from desire? I have tried to, but cannot. Ever since you first kissed me I have been able to think of little else besides when you might do so again. I even look forward to the times when you go away, because I know you will kiss me good-bye, and kiss me again when you return. I am afraid to kiss you, to hold you, because if I do I do not know if I will be able to stop myself from going further. I ache for you, my body burns for you, I find it hard to think of anything else; how can I let you close to me when just the sight of you makes my body awaken?_

_When you __first kissed me I was overjoyed. I was no longer embarrassed or ashamed of the feelings I had begun to have about you because I was sure you felt the same. I had doubted it for so long – everything you said and did seemed to speak against it and I dared not tell you how I felt in case it turned you against me. _

_But I was right to doubt, wasn't I? How stupid I have been. You could kiss me a thousand times and it still would not mean the same thing as one kiss I might give you._

_Please do not answer my question, if you love me. I do not even want to answer it myself, because I think I already know. You love me like you love a brother, a dear friend. That is all. The kisses, the embraces we share are those of beloved brothers. Any other touch from me would repulse you. You do not want to touch my body, to share its secrets. There is no desire for me in you. Perhaps there is no desire in you at all. That is the truth, is it not?_

_I cannot write anymore, my heart aches too much. _

* * *

"What are you reading, Hephaestion?" Alexander asked as he trotted into the room with his usual restless vitality. Hephaestion quickly rolled up the scroll he had been studying, a blush appearing on his face.

"Oh… nothing," he said quickly; then added, "just some stories about Heracles…"

"Come and sit on my bed, we'll read it together!"

"Oh, no, it's all right, I have some studies to attend to…"

"I thought you'd finished Aristotle's assignments," Alexander said with a small frown, "did I miss something today?"

"No, no, it's just… something I thought I ought to do…" Hephaestion gave him a quick, rather unconvincing smile.

"You seem to be spending more and more time in the library," Alexander noted after a moment, watching him, "what are you studying?"

"What a lot of questions you ask!"

Alexander lowered his eyes, trying to ignore the lump gathering in his throat.

"It's only because I miss you, Hephaestion."

Hephaestion put the scroll quickly into the chest at the foot of his bed, locking it shut. "You seemed happy enough to go riding with Nearchos and the others…"

"It wasn't the same without you."

A long silence. Then, "go ahead to bed, I won't be long… I just have a few more lines to write."

Alexander stared at Hephaestion as the other boy turned back to his desk, picking up a stylus and flattening out the paper in front of him. Alexander could feel the hot blood pumping up to his head, blinding his vision, the breathless rage constricting his throat.

_I hate you,_ the words pulsed through his head, _I hate you; you have no right to treat me like this, I'm a Prince, what are you? Any other boy would give his life to be loved by me, how dare you, how dare you…grow BORED with me!_

Could that really be all it was? He had refused Hephaestion's advances and suddenly he wasn't interesting anymore? Was that Andromachus person preferable company? Andromachus who probably only wanted to make use of Hephaestion while he was young and pretty; who would probably not have bothered with him if he wasn't favoured by a prince! He would probably drop Hephaestion once he realised Alexander no longer…

No longer…

_NO!_ Aching shame mixed with lingering resentment as Alexander undressed and slipped under the sheets, pulling them over his head as he closed his eyes and drew his knees up to his chest. What if he went straight over to Hephaestion's bed, got into it and offered himself to his friend?

For a moment, he realised that he was tempted, and not just for the purpose of regaining Hephaestion's love. His father was right about one thing – Hephaestion, always a handsome boy, was growing into an exquisitely proportioned youth and now that the realisation had been forced upon Alexander, it was impossible to go back to seeing him as innocently as he had before.

But then he thought of his father's exact words; his crude summing up of Hephaestion's charms: _broad shoulders… legs like a wild colt…_ Alexander winced, _nice firm arse…_ He thought of that appreciative look on his father's face. Then he thought of Hephaestion's intimate touching the other day by the stream. Had he been thinking of Alexander in the same way? It made him feel sick with panic.

At last the lamp was put out. He heard Hephaestion getting into bed and once again tears pricked his eyes. What had he been hoping for? Hephaestion running over to his arms to beg his forgiveness? He was behaving like a stupid baby! No wonder Hephaestion was bored with him!

At some point he fell into a fitful sleep, awaking to deeper darkness bathed in perspiration and trembling violently. He threw off the covers, sitting up and bending his head down between his knees as nausea gripped him. He couldn't lie down again; he felt as though the bed itself might rise up and suffocate him. It had been so long since he had been woken in then night like this, overcome by formless but paralyzing fear; had certainly not experienced it since coming to Mieza. Mieza had meant distance was placed between Alexander and the conflicting demands of his warring parents and that had surely helped. But Mieza had also meant sleeping with Hephaestion only feet away. In spite of himself his eyes were drawn across the room.

Shivering, he crossed the cold floor and sat down on the edge of the other boy's bed. "Hephaestion…"

Hephaestion's head jerked up sharply. Alexander had an inkling he had not been asleep. "Hephaestion, can I come in with you? Please?" he added before he could stop himself. Hephaestion, who had been lying on his side, silently shifted over and turned onto his belly, holding up the sheet for Alexander to get in beside him.

For a moment Alexander lay on his back, staring at the ceiling; then he turned over, moving closer to his friend. When Hephaestion made no move to reciprocate, he gently lifted Hephaestion's arm, trying to snuggle under it close to his side. To his dismay, Hephaestion grunted and turned his back. "I'm sorry," Alexander whispered, "I only wanted to hold you close for a while…"

No answer.

Alexander put his hand on Hephaestion's shoulder but the other remained unyielding. "Hephaestion?"

"Go to sleep," Hephaestion mumbled.

Alexander drew back, his eyes filling with tears. "Oh _Hephaestion…!"_ he gulped, jumping quickly from the bed and throwing himself down on his own, burying his face in the pillow and letting the deep, wracking sobs shake his body. There seemed no point in stopping them; there seemed nothing worth stopping them for. This was surely the end – he had lost Hephaestion's love to the world of adult lusts and debaucheries; he was alone again, as he had always feared he would be.

Even as he wept he found himself wondering with a dull detachment if they could separate without gossip or recrimination; he wouldn't want a backlash to strike Hephaestion or his family. They had always treated Alexander with respect and kindness; would they resent the loss of their son's position?

Alexander, at least, would not be alone for long; not in the practical sense – any of the boys here at Mieza and many more who had not been so favoured would be only to eager to become his best friend, some - Perdiccas or Leonatus perhaps - might genuinely appreciate a greater closeness to him out of real affection, not just the prestige it carried. Unless, of course, it was too late – if they too had woken to the world of boys, or men, or women, and had lost interest in their proud, precocious, often humourless little prince.

Alexander blinked stinging eyes as the lamp between the beds glowed into life. Blearily he made out Hephaestion as he came to sit on the bed. "Sit up, Alexander," his friend said softly, supporting him in the crook of his arm as if he was nursing an invalid. And with the gentleness of a nurse he wiped Alexander's hot, tearstained face with a cool, wet cloth before throwing it aside and pressing Alexander tenderly to his breast. "Hephaestion…?" Alexander choked.

"It's all right, Alexander," Hephaestion breathed in a tone of both love and ineffable sadness, kissing his brow, then his mouth with quick, hot lips. "It _will_ be all right, I… I'll make it all right, I…I promise…"

Alexander clung to him, letting go of what pride he had left in helpless tears of hope. "As long as you still love me…?" What would his parents think of him, the Prince, weeping like a girl and begging for love? But he did not care; not where this strong, beautiful youth, this gift from the Gods, was concerned.

"Of course I love you!" Hephaestion cried with a soft, despairing laugh that Alexander couldn't quite understand. But he let Hephaestion ease him down into the bed, wriggling close to his friend's body and sighing as Hephaestion's arms tightened around him.

They stayed locked together until the sun rose. Stirring, Alexander became sleepily aware of the hard press of Hephaestion's erection against his hip, but did not move or speak; just put his head back down against Hephaestion's chest and listened to the regular beat of his heart.

TBC


	6. Chapter 6

**LOVE LETTERS by Moon71**

**Chapter 6: **Despite Hephaestion's promise to make things better, an overheard conversation makes Alexander feel more and more isolated not just from him but from the rest of his friends as well...

**NOTES: **Thank you to all who have stuck by me with this story. I won't go on anymore about my internet and computer problems – you know the drill! And sorry for the short chapters, but the way the letters and the action combine makes for a natural "break."

_

* * *

_

Oh my Beloved…

_I have been haunted by a dream I had of you some weeks and I long to tell you about it if only so you can promise me it will never be like this between us!_

_I dreamed that we were lying out under the tree, you know the one I mean, and suddenly I could not help myself any longer, I flung my arms around you and kissed you, first your cheeks, then you__r lips, your neck and shoulders; it was as if madness possessed me! I pulled off your clothes and mine, and then I kissed and touched you all over your body. Nothing seemed to matter except that I had to have you._

_And you just l__ay there beneath me like a doll. You never stopped me, you never complained, you just let me do what I wanted, everything I wanted, and when I was finished and got off you, you stood up, put your chiton back on and walked away without looking back! And I shouted after you; I kept shouting but you kept walking away and I just kept shouting "forgive me!"_

_It must never be that way with us, never! I will learn to separate love from desire! I will find a way to make things perfect between us again, I promise…_

Alexander sat beneath the tree, gazing up at the fruit appearing amongst the lush clusters of leaves. Summer was well underway; time forced its way on. A deep sigh broke from him. In spite of Hephaestion's promise, things weren't all right, and Alexander had begun to doubt they ever would be again.

Hephaestion was no longer obviously distant and he no longer refused to give Alexander the affection he craved, but he couldn't resist the feeling that he was making a deliberate effort, the way Alexander's parents sometimes did when their rivalry drove them to compete against one another for his affection, or when their antipathy drove him too close to the edge.

And then there were the secrets - the books Hephaestion borrowed or bought but wouldn't let Alexander share, and the letters he wrote and wouldn't let him see or tell him who he was writing to…

Only this morning Alexander had woken in the early hours and seen Hephaestion once again at his desk, scribbling furiously. Silently he had risen from his bed and padded across the cold floor; he had leaned over Hephaestion's broad shoulder and read the first few words before the other boy had sensed him and snatched the paper to his chest.

* * *

"Who are you writing to?" Alexander had demanded more imperiously than he intended, "tell me, Hephaestion!"

"No-one!" Hephaestion snarled.

"Liar!" The aggression in Hephaestion's tone provoked Alexander. "True friends shouldn't keep secrets from each other! Tell me who you are writing to!"

"Leave me alone! Aren't I doing what you ask?"

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing." Hephaestion lowered his eyes, the scowl melting away from his features. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to shout. You startled me."

Alexander forced himself to swallow his own annoyance. He slipped his arm about Hephaestion's shoulders. Hephaestion smiled at him, but then stood abruptly, opening the trunk at the foot of his bed and shoving the letter inside. Alexander had watched him, then, when he grabbed a towel and headed for the bath-house, had stared down at the trunk for a long time…

The sound of youthful voices drifted over on the summer air, disturbing Alexander's reverie. The voices of his fellow students were loud, brash and boisterous, boys on the verge of manhood showing off. "…seeing him again tonight. Almighty Zeus, he's a real man, I don't care what anyone says…"

"You ought to be ashamed of yourself, letting a common_ sentry_ have his way with you! I've a good mind to tell your father!"

"You do and I'll tell your mother about the market-square whore, you rotten little creep! Besides, he's not a sentry, he's a veteran, he served with Philip in…"

Alexander sighed and closed his eyes; their vulgar boasting revolted him. He didn't seem to have anything in common with any of them anymore. He wanted to talk about Gods, Heroes, conquest and war; horses and sieges and exploration. All they wanted to talk about was… sex. He had almost pushed them back out of his private universe when he heard his own name.

"…Alexander and Hephaestion…? Do you reckon they're… well… doing anything…?"

"Alexander and Hephaestion? They can't be doing it; Hephaestion's not old enough to be an _erastes!"_

Howls of derisive laughter sent the birds flying from the trees. "Idiot! Who cares about that Athenian crap? Anyway, you don't need to stick things in to have fun when the lamps are out!"

"What do you need, then?"

"Hah! Come to my room tonight and I'll show you!"

"Oh no you don't! Not while I'm sharing with you! It's bad enough with the kitchen boy sneaking into your bed every night and the two of you squealing like piglets…!"

"The kitchen boy! You dirty bugger!"

"Mind you, he has got a nice bum!"

"And magnificent thighs!"

"I don't reckon Alexander's doing anything, anyway! I think he's scared of sex! My father says the King and Queen are worried about him not liking sex; they even hired him a really expensive hetaera, but he turned her down…"

"Turned her _down?_ There _must_ be something wrong with him! I wish _my_ parents would do that for me!"

"My father says Alexander's very young for his age…"

Rage boiled up in Alexander. Was there anything Philip didn't think fit to discuss with Antipater? Was there anything that could be Alexander's alone? He was about to leap to his feet and pound his fists into Antipater's sneak of a son when the next words froze him where he sat.

"He might be, but Hephaestion isn't! I caught him at it in the bath-house the other day!"

"At – at _what?"_

"Gods, you're thick! What are you, a eunuch? _It,_ stupid!"

"You know! Bringing himself off! Like _this!"_ More laughter.

"So what did you do?"

"Nothing, why should I? I went there for the same thing! He was really embarrassed but I just sat down beside him and suggested we do each other, it's more fun that way! But he just shook his head and left."

"Of course! He has to be alone to dream of his beloved Alexander!"

"You don't mean… he doesn't really…"

"Well it's obvious, isn't it! We've all seen him drooling over Alexander like a wolf watching a fat lamb - he can't wait to bring him down and sink his teeth in!"

"Athenian arse-kisser! Who does he think he is?"

"Well I think its Alexander's fault! My father says he's always hanging around the soldiers back in Pella like some cheap camp-follower, and you see how he is around Hephaestion, always hanging on his arm or holding his hand or putting his head in his lap… he even kisses him! On the _mouth!_"

"Not that you've been watching!"

"All I'm saying is, he should behave more like a prince!"

"Well if you ask me Alexander's mad! I wouldn't scream for help if Hephaestion climbed into _my_ bed!"

"Dream away! He only has eyes for Alexander!"

"I wouldn't be so sure… Alexander might think he's half divine, but Hephaestion's perfectly mortal! No, forget that! He's just plain perfect! If Alexander doesn't give him what he wants, he'll soon start looking elsewhere! And I'll be waiting for him in the bath-house when he does!"

"You dirty sod! Go and have a cold bath!"

"Gods this heat is killing me! Let's go and get some wine!"

"But Aristotle said we were supposed to…"

"To Hades with the old fool! Come on, let's go and see that kitchen-boy of yours!"

Their voices receded, leaving Alexander alone.

TBC


	7. Chapter 7

**LOVE LETTERS by Moon71**

**Chapter 6: **Alexander is still worrying over his troubled relationship with Hephaestion, but it begins to looks as though Hephaestion has finally run out of patience and turned to another. To whom can Alexander turn for comfort?

**NOTES: **Thank you once again to all my loyal readers. I finally have a new computer!!! So things should be smoother from now on. I think. There may be a bit of a gap between this chapter and the next, mainly because I'm rewriting the next bit which I never liked very much. But to make up for it, here is a relatively long instalment with a scene I'm very fond of.

_

* * *

_

Why do so many of the great philosophers seem

_to look down upon physical love? Why do they rate it so far below spiritual love? I do not, cannot understand it! Why should desire ruin everything when two people desire each other equally? When they love each other?_

_Achilles loved Patroklos and was loved by him. Even sleeping with women in the same tent didn't come between them! Orestes loved Pylades; Apollo loved Hyacinthus; even mighty Zeus loved Ganymede! And Heracles… how many boys, how many women, did he love? Yet when he died he was made a god. Are we wiser than the gods? _

_Aphrodite, the Goddess of love, is the daughter of Zeus! Why do we worship her, why her son Eros, if physical love is so shameful? Is Athene the eternal virgin better than Aphrodite the lover? I know she sided with the Greeks against the Trojans and protected Achilles; I know my family have always worshipped her as the patroness of Athens, but from today I am going to worship Aphrodite and Eros together! I will pray to them! Pray for them to open your eyes and mind and heart to me, to all the secrets of my love I long to share with you…_

* * *

He lay awake, watching the early sunlight filtering through the shutters. His head ached and he was exhausted; he had not slept at all, had not even been able to close his eyes, simply lying there staring at the ceiling. Reluctantly he turned his head and looked across to Hephaestion's bed. He could have thrown out his arm and touched it, but suddenly it seemed miles out of his reach. He did not even have the urge to cross over to it, to climb into it and at least pretend Hephaestion still loved him as exclusively and innocently as he once had.

_Oh my beloved._

The words he had seen on Hephaestion's letter tormented him.

Who was it? One of the other students?

_I wouldn't scream for help if Hephaestion climbed into _my_ bed!_

Was it that Andromachus?

As Alexander gazed across the gulf between them, he had a strong sense that Hephaestion wasn't sleeping either. Just as he was about to look away again, Hephaestion suddenly sat up and threw off the covers. Alexander's breath caught, half wishing, half dreading that Hephaestion was coming to him.

Hephaestion slid out of bed, moving with the silent stealth of a hunter… or a thief. Pulling on his chiton and throwing a cloak over his shoulders, he slowly unbolted the door and slipped out.

_I caught him at it in the bath house…_

Barely knowing what he was doing, Alexander sprang up, dressed and followed him, stepping across the cold courtyard and onto the dewy grass. There, on the far side of the low wall, a tall figure paced restlessly. In the dim light Alexander made out the features of the handsome young man he had seen Hephaestion talking to back in the spring, the one who had lingered, gazing wistfully after Hephaestion when Alexander had come to claim him. When Alexander had kissed him. Not the first time he had ever kissed him, of course. But the first time he had kissed him… like a lover.

As Hephaestion reached him, the young man – could this be Andromachus? – grinned and put his arm about Hephaestion's shoulders, talking to him too softly for Alexander to catch his words. A moment later they had disappeared into the woodlands.

A sick panic rose in Alexander's throat. He struggled to breathe.

This would not do. He had to master himself. Old Leonidas was right about him – he was weak; he needed to grow stronger, to rely on no-one but himself. There was no-one out there who truly understood him; he had been naïve to think Hephaestion really did. Love was just one more luxury he would have to learn to live without. He would throw himself into his studies. He would drill his body twice as hard, practice going longer and longer without sleep, eat only half of what they put on his plate at dinner. He would become invulnerable, just like Achilles. And unlike Achilles he would not have a weak spot – that had been Hephaestion, and he would learn to manage without him.

Yet at that moment he felt he could not stand a moment longer within the realm of Mieza, the place he had once thought of as an earthly paradise, away from the Court, surrounded only by learned men and other boys; with Hephaestion sharing his room, absolutely his, ready to talk, to listen, to give comfort, whatever Alexander needed, whenever he needed it, and no-one to come between them. He had to get away before it drove him mad.

* * *

"Alexander! Oh, my sweet little Alexander!" Hellanike threw her arms about him and smothered him in kisses, sitting him down at her table and rapidly producing sweet wine and honey-cakes. "What a wicked boy you are, to keep away from your old nurse for so long! I know how you boys are – you think you're too grown up to have anything to do with women who aren't young and pretty!"

Guiltily he had to admit to himself that he _had_ rather been avoiding her; she had a habit of treating him as if he was still in the nursery and he dreaded meeting her in the company of his peers. But when he had arrived in Pella after his frantic ride – he might almost have said escape – from Mieza, he had not known who else to turn to.

His father, on the remote chance he might even be free to talk to him, would surely regard him as an unnatural sissy for panicking at the thought of Hephaestion wanting to bed him, let alone standing by while another claimed his prize. His mother would take it as proof that Hephaestion had never been good enough for him and then probably decided that it was really all for the best, as Alexander should learn not to rely on anyone as much as he relied on Hephaestion and remind him that she was the only person who he could really trust.

Nor could not bear to confide in his dear old Lysimachus – how could he confess to his beloved "Phoenix" that Achilles had been abandoned by his Patroklos? Alexander had winced at the memory of running to his old tutor in a rush of childish delight some months after meeting Hephaestion, to tell him he had found his Patroklos at last. How wrong had he been?

"Do you know, I believe you've grown almost six inches since I last saw you? And you've put on weight, Zeus bless you! I knew you'd shoot up just fine when you got away from that horrible old Leonidas! Young sprouts don't grow unless you feed and water them, that's what I said to Cleitus, of course he just laughed at me, but what do men know about raising children…?"

Alexander was about to protest that Leonidas' Spartan-like regime was designed to strengthen him, but then he realised he had emptied his plate of the small, sweet cakes in a fashion which was hardlyself-denying.

He had just taken a large gulp of the sweet wine as Hellanike suddenly asked, "how is your dear little friend, now? I hear he's grown very tall and handsome, just like his father! Oh dear!" suddenly she giggled like a girl, her cheeks flushing bright pink. "I had quite an awful crush on Amyntor son of Demetrius when he first arrived at Court! He was so handsome, and with such sophisticated Athenian ways… Cleitus used to tease me about it, then say most Athenians were frauds and poseurs relying on their nice Greek accents and their reputation for cleverness to impress silly Macedonian girls like me! Why, Alexander," she cried as she turned to look at him, "whatever is the matter, my love?"

Alexander could feel his own face burning now; tears were stinging mercilessly at the back of his eyes and choking up his throat. "Hephaestion…" his voice came only as a pathetic whimper, but he could not help it, "Hephaestion doesn't… Hephaestion isn't my friend anymore!"

"Oh, Alexander, I'm sorry…" He had half expected Hellanike to run over and to clutch him to her bosom; to coo and soothe and gently scold that he was being a big silly; that little boys had their tiffs and they'd make it up and all would be better before he knew it. But instead she rose only to refill his glass before sitting back down opposite and watching him with dark eyes full of pity. Suddenly she was not a nurse with her overgrown charge, she was a woman, younger than he usually thought her but old in experience, perfectly aware of the senseless cruelties of the fates.

"You - you don't sound surprised," Alexander mumbled, swallowing more wine in the hope of quelling his tears.

Lanike shrugged. "These things happen, my dear one… friends you think will be at your side forever… just _change,_ when they grow from children to adults. It happens to us all, but most of all to young Princes like you… of course many will want to be your friend because you're a prince, but others… well… they don't like it… having to share your friendship, cope with gossip and jealousy… oh yes, I hear it all, even what Cleitos doesn't think fit for the ears of gossipy women! There isn't a nobleman in Macedon with a boy – or a girl – close to your age who doesn't resent Amyntor just a little for breezing in from Athens and letting his handsome son push his way to the front of the queue!"

"Hephaestion's not…" Alexander began to protest in spite of himself.

"I know, my love, I know," Hellanike smiled gently, "but you know how people are. But don't you distress yourself over it! Just think! You're growing up so fast! You're very nearly a man! Before long you'll be a soldier! And then you'll marry, and have children… the Gods willing, I might even be nurse to them…!"

_"I don't want to grow up!"_ Alexander spluttered, _"I hate being a man, I hate everything about it! I want everything to be the way it was! I want Hephaestion to… to…" _Ashamed of his weakness, his buried his face in his hands and wept miserably.

"There, _there,"_ clucked Lanike, at last behaving the way she should, pulling him close to her and rocking him tenderly. "This isn't like my Alexander, who couldn't wait to get out the nursery and get hold of a sword! Why, you couldn't grow up fast enough! Remember how you raged when the King wouldn't take you on campaign? You won't feel like this for long; you're just at an awkward age, we all go through it, even me…!" Suddenly she stifled a giggle, drawing back and wiping Alexander's tears away with the palms of her hands. "Even Cleitos!"

A convulsive giggle broke from Alexander. "…_Cleitos…?"_

"Oh, you have no idea… when he was only thirteen he fell in love with…" Hellanike shook her head. "No, I mustn't, I still feel awful for mocking him about it at the time, but he _was_ such big bully; do you know, when I was first chosen to be your nurse, the great oaf thought it would be the funniest prank to snatch you out of your cradle and hide you in the stables… as quiet as a thief in the night he was; I was napping right beside you and I didn't hear at thing! He'd even kept you quiet – so he bragged to me later – by coating his fingers in honey and letting you suck them!"

"I sucked Cleitos's fingers?! _Ughh!"_

"Well, you had your revenge, my love - he didn't know you were cutting teeth! I made him show me the bite marks afterwards… but oh, how I wish I'd woken up to see his face when you clamped down on him and he couldn't make you let go for fear of setting you howling! But bitten or not, he got clean away with you and hid you in the stables... and you should have heard me screaming when I woke up and found you gone…"

"So what happened? Did he get away with it...?"

"Doesn't he always? Well, let me tell you..."

Resting his head against her shoulder, sipping his wine and listening to the stories she told with her enchantingly self-deprecating humour, Alexander let himself get lost, at least for a few hours, in the childhood he had only one season ago been so impatient to leave behind.

* * *

He had hardly expected to find Hephaestion in his room when he got back, but there he was bent over his desk, no doubt writing another of those cursed letters. Alexander was thrown by the rush of bitter hatred he felt as he stared at his friend's back; seeing him brought all sorts of ugly thoughts and images he had put aside while with Hellanike, and suddenly he felt every drop of the wine he had drunk.

No doubt Hephaestion was writing to Andromachus - big, handsome, manly Andromachus - telling him how much he had enjoyed satisfying his grotesque desires. The thought of that man, of any man putting his sweaty paws on Hephaestion's pure, beautiful body sickened Alexander and – even worse, the last emotion he wanted – filled him with jealousy. It was more than the thought of someone else claiming Hephaestion's love, it was the thought of someone claiming Hephaestion himself, of knowing more of Hephaestion than Alexander ever would.

He had not_ wanted_ to know his friend that way, he knew that; he had _decided_ that. Let someone else have the part of Hephaestion that was so unimportant to him! But thoughts plagued him of Andromachus manhandling Hephaestion's most intimate parts, bruising his tender limbs, roughly kissing his sweet lips…

Andromachus, who was undoubtedly some crude boor, who could never treat Hephaestion's body with the reverence and love Alexander would have…

Would have if he had wanted to, which he didn't…

And Hephaestion, responding to the man's brutish advances, laughing in ecstasy… showing that lecher a side to him that Alexander had never seen…

That Alexander had _chosen_ never to see!

Enjoying a particular happiness that Alexander had not given him…

A cheap, low, worthless happiness that Alexander _chose_ not to give him!

Enjoying _any_ happiness that Alexander had no part in…

Damn Hephaestion for throwing his virtue away like some kitchen boy! He should had more respect for himself, if for no other reason than because Alexander loved him! Didn't that mean anything to him?

Then the reality of what must have happened that morning really struck him. Hephaestion had done something that Alexander had not done, with someone other than Alexander. Hephaestion had taken a step into manhood without him.

That morning Hephaestion had surely taken Andromachus as his lover. He had taken a _lover._ There could only be one first time for it, and Hephaestion had just had his. And no matter how what happened between the two of them now, even if Alexander suddenly changed his mind and wanted to be with him in that way, he would never be the first.

Well it didn't matter. Who cared about such things? If his parents had had their way, Alexander's first time would have been with some high-class whore who, if rumours were true, his father had enjoyed in his place. Your wife, your best friend, your _erastes; _elegant hetaerae, common market-place whores, maidservants or kitchen boys. Sex was just sex and it didn't matter who you had it with. Hephaestion had just proved that, hadn't he? He was just like all the other boys and men in Macedon and maybe he always had been; maybe it was only it was only Alexander's love that had made him seem special…

Then Hephaestion turned around and Alexander froze. His friend's face might have been a mirror for his own, his normally bronze skin was pale and blotchy and his eyes were red-rimmed. He looked so pathetic that Alexander simply didn't have the heart to challenge him. _Did he hurt you?_ he had the urge to demand, _if he dared to force himself on you I'll have his throat cut, I'll have him crucified, I'll – _

Then Hephaestion looked at him with such hard, unapproachable bitterness that he no longer knew what to say, or even what to feel. A small, spiteful part of him was actually relieved that Hephaestion looked so dispirited; hoped he had done it and hated it and now would be grateful to return to Alexander's chaste loving. But then a new thought poured cold water on the heat of his malice; if Hephaestion, who wanted it so much, found it awful, how dreadful it must really be! And for just a moment, Alexander felt a stab of disappointment.

With a deep, shuddering sigh, Hephaestion rolled up the paper he had been writing on and thrust it into his trunk before throwing himself down onto his bed and covering his face with his pillow. Sitting down on his own bed, Alexander stared for a very long time at the trunk's wooden frame, at its heavy lid, at the brass lock that Hephaestion had forgotten to fasten.

TBC


	8. Chapter 8

**LOVE LETTERS by Moon71**

**Chapter 8: **So what happened during Hephaestion's day with Andromachus? Unable to stop worrying about it, Alexander gives in to temptation…

**Notes: **Once again I am sorry for a long delay. I knew this story would be a pain! Actually it was rather stupid of me to start posting while I was having so many computer problems, but sometimes I have odd impulses!

What held me up this time was the need to heavily revise this chapter. Since I wrote this story I've changed my opinion a lot about how to handle something like this, and I decided Hephaestion's behaviour was a bit too unlikely. Anyone who bought Nadja Lee's lovely Alexander zine can read the original – this is the final version.

Oh and the good news – there are only two more chapters after this and they're both ready for posting!

* * *

_Oh Beloved…_

_Yes, I still call you that, for all the conflicting feelings I have for you after today. How much more miserable do you want me to be? __Desire for you plagues me like a sickness. Each night I am teased by dreams of you, each day my mind wanders constantly to the thought of making love with you. Oh, but why repeat myself, had you read my other letters you would know it all already! And now, to add to my misery, all my hopes with Andromachus have come to nothing! Now what am I supposed to do?_

_You, who are so scornful of those of us who long for physical love as well as the love of souls you exalt, will probably think poorly of Andromachus – and of me, for agreeing to go with him. Perhaps if I tell you a little more about him you will not judge either of us so harshly._

_Before I came to Macedon I knew Andromachus well. As he was five years older than me, I could not say we were close friends, but he was always friendly and kind. I always remember him helping me with my riding and with my training __in the gymnasium; back then he was just like an older brother. When I met him again at my cousin's wedding last year I felt differently. He was suddenly a man – tall and handsome and confident. I didn't really know how to behave around him._

_When he cam__e to see me and asked to be my lover I was flattered but I didn't know what to say to him. It didn't seem very important, though I thought I might ask you what you thought about it. Then, when you kissed me the way you did, everything changed. I was so happy – everything seemed perfect. I knew it was you I wanted to be with and it was fine because I thought after that kiss that you wanted the same thing. So I stopped thinking about Andromachus. But then it all went wrong between us._

_When Andromachus wrote to me I thought I had found the perfect solution. I __thought if I could satisfy my body's hunger with him I could be the friend you want me to be and all would be well again! So I agreed to meet him this morning in the woods._

_I was very nervous at first. The Andromachus who greeted me was the one I had met at the wedding, not the one I remember helping me learn to ride and compete in athletics. I didn't know what he would want to do – I was afraid he would be too rough or would hurt me, or that I would do something wrong and annoy him__. But he was very patient. We sat down together in a small clearing and we drank some wine and talked and I began to feel quite happy._

_Then he kissed me. It felt strange to be kissed by someone other than you, but after a moment I realised I wanted to kiss him back – he _really_ kissed me, deeply, like a lover, and it felt good._

_Do you want me to say that it didn't? That I hated it? Well I didn't. It felt good. But when I closed my eyes I realised I was imagining it was _you_ I was kissing, and I felt confused. Andromachus undressed himself and then me, and began to touch me. At first I just watched, wanting to see what he did, but just as I was really beginning to relax, once again I found myself wishing that it was you touching me like that._

_At first Andromachus just thought I was nervous. He said the nicest things to me…__ "My Hephaestion," he said. "My sweet beloved." He said how handsome I was. And he said some nice things about my thighs, too. I repeated everything he said in my own thoughts but then again I started imagining you saying it instead. And at the same time I could not help wondering what you would say if you saw what we were doing? Would you think it disgusting? Would you be angry? I even wondered if perhaps you would be jealous. _

_Then I opened my eyes and found him smiling down at me and I felt so ashamed of myself for lying to both of you. I was so upset that Andromachus looked worried and began to apologise to me for whatever he had done wrong, and that only made me feel worse._

_Forgive me my love but I gave in and told him __about you. I couldn't help it. I needed to tell someone and besides – he was so very kind that I couldn't leave him thinking that it was only because I did not like him or because he had done something to me._

_At fist he was angry with me, and he had good reason to be. He thought I was playing some sort of game with __the two of you and he scolded me for it, saying he had no time for the all the nonsense of the unhappy lover and the scornful, faithless beloved. Was I using him to make you jealous? Because getting into fights over the love of a boy was not his style either!_

_In the end I had to tell him __about my desire for you and how you did not feel the same way, and how I hoped to find a way to be more like you and yet at the same time I wanted you to be more like me! When he heard it all, he actually started laughing. And suddenly he was the Andromachus who used to help me with my athletics and I wasn't nervous with him at all. He said the two of us were far too serious for boys our age. And do you know what else he said? "I don't think he feels nothing… maybe he's just scared of what he feels!"_

_Could that be true, my dear? Has he only given me false hope?_

_We spent the rest of the day together. Most of the time we just talked and finished off the wine, and though I did think, every now and then, that it was too long since you and I had done this, I did have a nice time with him. And I did let him kiss me and touch me some more, and it did feel good, and I didn't think about you all the time, and when we'd finished I fell asleep in his arms and felt better than I had done in a long time._

_It was only when I got back to the school that it suddenly struck me. Everything around Mieza reminded me of you. The closer I got to our room, the more miserable I felt. My time with Andromachus felt like a guilty dream. And now I had woken up and found that things were no better between you and I than they had been when I felt this morning. When I finally got to this room and saw your bed and mine, where you had so often slept beside me, __I felt it all flood back and I could not help weeping._

_I wish you would tell me what you want. Would you prefer me to be the beloved of Andromachus? Maybe that would be better. Then you and I could be friends as we were__ before? Or is he right, and I should try for you once again? I want to ask you, but I can't. I just can't._

* * *

In the end, he read the first one almost by mistake. The days passed; Alexander pushed himself harder than ever, rising early, concentrating on his studies during the day and then working hard in the gymnasium, riding and practising cavalry drills with Bucephelus until dark so that when he finally returned to his room he was tired enough to fall into bed without having to acknowledge Hephaestion, who had nearly always gone to bed before he arrived.

But in spite of how hard he pushed his body and his mind, his sleep was not sound. When he closed his eyes he saw Hephaestion again and again; saw him as he was that day he had first rejected him and then reduced him to tears. Recalled the despair in his voice as he had asked "are we never to be lovers?" Remembered the deep sadness in his eyes and voice as he had falsely promised to make everything alright between them again. He heard the accusing words of his friends, suggesting by his childishly demonstrative behaviour he had lead Hephaestion on – did they really think he had done so deliberately? That he enjoyed tantalising Hephaestion with pleasures he would not give him?

Had he, on some deep, hidden level, really wanted Hephaestion to yearn for him? Had he… it made his head throb… in some secret corner of his heart, been gratified by Hephaestion's advances? If so, it had not gone as he might have planned – surely alienating Hephaestion to the point of driving him into another's arms had not been part of the plan.

It was worse when sleep finally came because then his imagination had free reign. He would find himself following Andromachus and Hephaestion into the woods to watch their love-play. Only sometimes it would not be Andromachus who loved Hephaestion, but Alexander himself. Or he would follow Hephaestion into the bath-house and watch him pleasure himself, waiting, hungering, for him to call out Alexander's name.

Most disturbing of all was a dream he had had more than once - Hephaestion had come over to his bed and seized him roughly, ignoring his struggles, deaf to his protests, telling him he knew Alexander better than Alexander knew himself… Struggling against himself he woke, ashamed to find himself aroused.

He refused to touch himself, even when desire left him exhausted and desperate for release. Such low pleasures were a weakness; how could a General command if his head and body was polutedwith lust? He would not let such feelings govern him and distract him from what was truly important. He was more than just an ordinary mortal! He would have to marry eventually, he admitted uncomfortably; would have to _know_ women. But that was a duty, an obligation. He had no duty to make love to Hephaestion!

Driven almost to madness by the conflict of his thoughts, he would glare through the shadows to his sleeping friend, damning him for casting his evil spell, for infecting Alexander with his own debilitating lusts, for shattering his innocence once and for all.

Once, unable to contain himself, he had jumped from his bed and gone to stand over Hephaestion, ready to confront him. But as he had looked down upon his friend's face, beautiful in its repose, all of his anger faded and all he could feel was a tender longing. Timidly he had reached out and touched Hephaestion's lips with his fingers, then with his own lips. For a paralysing second he could not draw back, wanted to press harder, feeling the heat of the other's body so close to his skin.

A gentle twitch from Hephaestion, the beginning of a response, drove Alexander rapidly back to his bed and to his tormented dreams.

One night he clattered in as usual and saw Hephaestion start quite violently and turn from his desk. Alexander couldn't help scowling at him, dismayed and unreasonably annoyed at finding him awake. Under his gaze, Hephaestion's dark eyes reflected both anxiety and sadness. He seemed about to speak when Alexander turned his back on him and began undressing.

Suddenly he heard the crumpling of paper, a light thud as something was hurled across the room, the scrape of a chair as Hephaestion rose and went to his own bed. Alexander's eyes involuntary sought the ball of paper he had seen fly by from the corner of his eye. As soon as Hephaestion had lain down, he slipped across the room and picked it up, unfurling it with slow, quiet stealth.

_Beloved, what am I to do?_

_Andromachus was my last hope,__ a deceitful hope though it might have been. How much longer will I be tormented like this? Every day my unhappiness grows; it seems to me I will feel happy again. If only I had the courage to confront you – to tell all and demand to know how it is to be. For so long I have feared receiving an answer I do not want, but it now seems to me that one swift, killing blow is better than_

Evidently that was as far as Hephaestion had got when Alexander had walked in. Why had he thrown it away in a temper – because Alexander had disturbed him? Because he felt guilty? What did he mean about Andromachus? If _he_ wasn't Hephaestion's new love, if he had somehow been using Andromachus, then who was? Surely it couldn't be one of the other boys – someone was bound to have mentioned it to Alexander by now, even by accident. It might not be a boy at all. Such was the sadness, the loneliness and frustration the words conveyed, had it been anyone but Hephaestion Alexander's heart might have ached in sympathy – probably before swelling with a resolution to make things right.

He _could_ make it right – he could go to Hephaestion and soothe his misery, even offer to help. If Hephaestion did not love him anymore, should he not still show him compassion? Alexander still loved _him_, was still, he acknowledged, with a tight pain in his chest and a stinging in his eyes, still _in_ love with him. So very much in love with him…

Once again Alexander's eyes strayed to the trunk by Hephaestion's bed.

Alexander lay silent, keeping his breathing regular. He heard Hephaestion's bed creak, then the soft pad of his feet upon the floor. A few more moments; then the splash of water, the rustle of clothing, finally an odd silence. A cool, slightly damp hand upon Alexander's hair. A soft, warm breath on his face, then the lightest touch of lips upon his brow. At last, the soft click of the door opening and shutting.

Alexander sat bolt upright, his hand pressed to his brow where the kiss still tingled. A good-bye kiss? Was Hephaestion about to run away? Telling himself he needed to know, it was now his _duty _to know, he suddenly threw himself to the floor by Hephaestion's trunk. It was fastened, but the key had been left in the lock. Alexander stared at it for a long time, running his tongue nervously over his lips. Rifling through Hephaestion's private things was beneath his dignity! What would Aristotle say if he caught him?

The trunk was open almost before he realised it. He stared numbly down at the small bundle of letters bound with string, sitting neatly on top of the layers of folded clothing. They could be letters from anyone; his parents, his aunts and uncles in Athens…

Andromachus…

The unknown beloved…

With trembling hands Alexander unknotted the string and spread the bundle of letters smooth across his knee. And began to read.

He was late for the first lesson that morning.


	9. Chapter 9

**LOVE LETTERS by Moon71**

**Chapter 9: **Though he knows it's wrong, Alexander cannot help reading Hephaestion's letters. It gives him a precious insight into his friend's true feelings – but what if Hephaestion finds out?

* * *

He abandoned his ride, his session in the gymnasium; he even abandoned his obligatory bath. All that seemed to matter was getting back to his room before Hephaestion returned. All that mattered were Hephaestion's letters. They haunted him. They frightened him. They tantalised him. They lifted him on a wave of Hephaestion's hopeful love only to toss him down on the rocks of his despair. Unwillingly he found himself challenged by Hephaestion's arguments to the point where he longed to run to him and launch into debate.

Here, laid bare and vulnerable to Alexander's violation, was the mind, heart and soul of his beloved. Alexander, always so full of thoughts, concepts, ideas, of fears and worries and wild hopes and dreams, had thought he would go mad for lack of a true confidante until Hephaestion had entered his life. From the moment they had become friends, it suddenly seemed to Alexander, he had never stopped talking, nor had Hephaestion stopped listening.

And he did listen, thinking through everything Alexander chattered to him at high speed; whenever he was asked, he always had an opinion. Should Alexander himself have listened more and talked less? Until this spring, when they had begun to push apart, Hephaestion had never seemed to want to do more of the talking; his confidences had been boyish ones, trouble with family or other boys, fears about his studies, his combat skills. Even these complaints seemed forced out of him; Hephaestion, Alexander acknowledged as he sat there, nagged by guilt, was tremendously proud. And might not ever have wanted Alexander to know this much about him.

He should have put the letters back and forgotten about them, then made some suitable sacrifice to the Gods. A true sacrifice, a personal one, as penance for this wickedness. But the allure was simply overpowering. He wanted again and again to plunge into the depths of Hephaestion's inner world; to know his friend inside and out. How could he not have known, not have suspected, how deeply the still waters ran? Hephaestion's struggle for and against his own desires; his disappointments and dashed hopes, took on heroic proportions in Alexander's romantic heart. There was only one aspect of this Love-Tragedy of Hephaestion that Alexander did not want to acknowledge – the identity of the Beloved.

It could be, must be, surely _had_ to be –

But just possibly it wasn't. And even if it _was…_

But one letter most of all, the one he should most have detested, kept drawing him back. In a way it said nothing Alexander had not already guessed. But the words touched him in a way that none of the others, with their various arguments, their alternating pleas, protests, apologies and defiance, had managed to do. There was love here, as there was in all the others, but there was more than that – there was happiness. There was hope.

_Dearest Beloved,_

_For a few moments I have peace. I cannot tell you why, please do not ask, and I know it will not last, it never does. But I do have peace. So let me tell you the happy images I hold in my heart. Let me dream my perfect dream of our first night as lovers, just as I want it to be. _

_We would begin our perfect evening with lamplight and sweet wine. I will sit on the bed and you will si__t between my knees with your head back against my shoulder. And you will read to me in your sweet, clear voice, maybe something from the _Iliad_ or perhaps, if you will not laugh at it, some stories from my book about the loves of Heracles. I like the ones about Iolaus best, because he was a squire in battle and a good chariot driver, just like Patroklos… _

_As you read I will touch you. I will stroke your hair, your face, your neck; I will rub your shoulders until I feel you sink into my arms like cloth, soft and boneless, but I w__ill tell you to keep on reading, I will hold back my desire for as long as I can. While you read I will touch you more, your belly and hips, your thighs, first on top, then in between, and you will tell me if it feels good or if it doesn't. At last, when I know you are truly happy, I will ask you to tell me where else to touch you. Wherever you say, I will touch you until you tell me where to go next. When you are ready, lay the book aside, and then if you like you can touch me too. At last we will kiss, on the cheeks, on the lips, on the throat…let me kiss you all over your body, I have dreamed of that for so long…_

_After that? Perhaps we will stop then and take some more wine. Perhaps we will put out the lamp and slip under the blankets.__ Or hold each other close and talk? Perhaps we will just carrying on kissing and touching? We could go to sleep then and there in each other's arms, I could do this if I knew it was only the first of many nights. What would you like? Which one of these appeals most to you?_

_Do you like how this sounds? If only I had the courage to leave this letter for you to read! I am ready at this moment to do it, but I know my nerve will desert me very soon and I will snatch it back, and hide it with all the others…_

Alexander felt a strange shudder pass through his body as he read the words again and again, unable to tear his eyes away. He felt his skin growing hot – he even felt a stirring in his loins which mortified him but was not enough to scare him off. He touched his fingers to his lips, feeling them tingle as if after a kiss, stroked his throat, slipped his hand downward to his bare chest, and found himself wishing it was Hephaestion's hand. Oh, how could he ever give in to Hephaestion's desires when just one foolish letter overflowing with boyish ardour was enough to enthral him?

The sound of footsteps in the corridor sent Alexander scurrying to replace the letters and leap upon his own bed like a guilty thief. When Hephaestion appeared at last, moving quietly, a little wearily, Alexander watched him with the eyes of a person able to see after years of blindness and wondered if he really knew him at all. His heart jumped as Hephaestion looked over at him, frightened by what he felt. If Hephaestion came to him now and demanded love, he was not quite sure he could refuse.

But Hephaestion did not come near; he settled at his desk with a very heavy sigh. Alexander continued to stare at him, biting his lip in anticipation. Another letter – he had to be about to start another letter!

But there was no letter that night. Hephaestion simply sat staring at his desk for a long time before retreating to his bed.

* * *

The next day was a rest-day. Alexander awoke with a pang as he remembered; once he and Hephaestion had dreamed of their days away from study, carefully planning how best to spend their time together. Now they seemed to spend more time planning how to avoid one another. Alexander, who hated lying in bed doing nothing, stayed where he was while Hephaestion rose and began to dress, but could not pretend to be asleep.

"Where are you going today?" he asked to break the crushing silence.

"My parents," Hephaestion answered too quickly, too brightly. It seemed as though he had been waiting eagerly for Alexander to talk to him; both struggled to say more, then gave up. Alexander's sigh was almost a moan. Had it really got so bad between them?

"Will you send them my… best wishes?" Alexander managed at last. He no longer felt he had the right to offer them his love.

"Of course!" Hephaestion flashed him a brief smile, then, as if inspired, took a few steps towards Alexander's bed. "Alexander, would you…"

"What?" Alexander snapped convulsively, startling both himself and his friend.

"Nothing, it doesn't matter, I'll see you this evening. Health to you." Hephaestion retreated before Alexander could stop him. Alexander groaned into his pillow, cursing himself. What was the use? How could he talk to Hephaestion when he did not know what he wanted to say?

Perhaps he could write a letter, just as Hephaestion had? He could always throw it away afterwards if he didn't like what it said! Glancing towards the door, he slid out of the bed and went to Hephaestion's trunk. He would have a last look at the letters for inspiration before he apologised to the gods for his prying. He found his hands shaking as he unrolled them, unable to resist reading his favourite one yet again.

"Alexander, listen, why don't you come with me today? We need to…"

Hephaestion's words trailed off as he stopped in the doorway, staring at Alexander crouched by his trunk as if he could not understand what he was seeing. _"Alexander…?"_

Alexander glanced from Hephaestion to the letter in his hand, then back to his friend, determined to meet his eye despite the fact his own face was burning and he was aching with shame. "Hephaestion, I…"

"Alexander, how could you?" Hephaestion's voice was a thin whisper.

"I… I didn't mean to… I thought…" A hundred excuses leapt into his head, but he dismissed them all. He was guilty; as a Prince, he needed to take responsibility for his actions. He held his head up proudly, though he felt he was about to be sick. "I'm sorry, Hephaestion."

"How could you…?" Hephaestion repeated, his voice fractured with emotion, _"Why_ did you? Must you take everything from me, aren't my heart and soul and… body… enough? Gods know they all belong to you, even if you don't want them! Won't you leave me anything for myself? At least in… _them…_" he gestured clumsily to the letters in Alexander's hand, "I could be honest… at least… with myself… I could imagine… let myself believe that… perhaps…"

"I'm sorry," was all Alexander could say, choked with guilt, "I'm so sorry…"

"_I hate you!"_ Hephaestion's words struck Alexander like a blow; by the time he had recovered, his friend was gone.

Alexander wanted to bury his face in his hands and cry, to strike out at his own body, to punish himself; to suffer. More than anything else he wanted to sink into the ground and disappear. But he did not. This time he was not going to run away and hide.


	10. Chapter 10

**LOVE LETTERS by Moon71**

**Chapter 10: **After so long at odds, Alexander and Hephaestion finally confront each other. Where do they go from here?

**Notes: **The final part at last! Thank you to all of you who have stuck by me during what has proved a rather complicated few months in many ways. I'm not sure how quickly I will post my next story, but new stories do still exist both on my computer and in my brain, so stick with me and feel free to email me if you ever want to chat. I am working a lot of overtime at the moment as well as writing other stuff, so my time is stretched, but if I am slow to reply please don't think I've forgotten or am ungrateful - all comments, reviews, questions or others are treasured.

* * *

He found Hephaestion where he knew he would be. The fruit on their favourite tree were heavy and ripe; some had already fallen and lay like bright red jewels upon the green grass. Hesitating a moment, Alexander picked up one of the apples and looked down at it. "The autumn is nearly here," he observed in a quiet tone. "It's sad to think that we've been at odds since the spring…" He polished the apple against his chiton and held it out to his friend.

Hephaestion looked up slowly, staring at the fruit for a long moment before taking it from him and clutching it close to his heart. "Do you hate me now?" he asked in a thin whisper.

"Oh Hephaestion," Alexander sighed, "I love you more than ever…!"

"I tried, Alexander, I swear to you I tried," Hephaestion cried suddenly, running his hands through his own dark curls in anguish, "but I can't help what I feel! I love you and I – I _want you!_ Just like Patroklos wanted Achilles!"

"Or Heracles wanted Iolaus?" Alexander suggested gently, crouching beside him and taking Hephaestion's hand in his own. After a pause he added, "Hephaestion, what I did was very wrong, I didn't want to hurt you, I… I was jealous, and confused, and… I swear, when I saw the first one I didn't know… I wasn't sure… I thought perhaps you'd found someone else…"

"_Alexander…!"_ Hephaestion rolled his eyes in exasperation.

"I know, I know… I just don't think I wanted to admit it… they are to me, aren't they? I'm still your beloved?"

"_Gods, how can you even ask?"_

"How can I _not_? After the way things have been between us… the way _I've_ been… and… Andromachus…"

"If you read all of my letters," Hephaestion sniffed, "you'll know Andromachus means nothing to me…"

"But you and he, you _did…"_

"So what if we did?" Hephaestion stiffened defensively. "You made it quite clear you didn't want to! Anyway," he added in a softer tone, "it didn't really mean anything. It was a bit of fun, that's all. And he was kind to me. If you don't care about… about doing _that_ sort of thing with me, you shouldn't mind if I want to do it with someone else…"

"But I _do_ mind." Alexander lowered his eyes. "And I _do_ care. I… I was just scared. Andromachus was right, in what he said to you… I _am_ scared."

Hephaestion met his eyes for the first time and Alexander saw an acknowledgement there of what that admission had cost him. "I'm scared too, Alexander!" he declared, "don't you see? I'm afraid of disappointing you, as a friend, as a…a lover... of not keeping up with you, of losing your love, of being a poor soldier, of other people's jealousy… of my own… of your parents not approving of me…"

"But it's natural to be scared of those things," Alexander replied, shaking his head, "I'm scared of them too! But that's not what frightens me now! I'm scared of… of wanting you too much!" He breathed out deeply; he had finally said it, to himself as well as to his friend. "I'm scared of wanting all of it too much, of… of… letting that side of me escape, of being blinded and possessed by what I feel, of it ruining what we have! I see my mother's jealousy, and my father… Hephaestion, you see how lust controls him… if I really _am_ his son, what if I become like him? Think about it, Hephaestion… what if I begin treating you the way he's treated some of his lovers…?"

Hephaestion frowned, drawing in a deep breath and turning the apple over and over in his hand. "I don't think lust controls the King," he said, taking his time, "whatever your mother says, I think he… enjoys it, and maybe he uses it against other people… because they find him attractive… and they _do_, I know you can see it too… but I don't think you'll ever be like him, because I don't think he has ever loved anyone the way you have…"

"You mean the way I love you," Alexander responded simply, pressing his hand hard; Hephaestion blushed and began nibbling at the apple, a deep frown upon his face. Alexander could almost feel the thoughts turning over in his head.

"Alexander…" Hephaestion suddenly laid aside the apple, freed his hand and clasped Alexander's shoulders in a painful grip. "I know you love me, but do you _want _me? Even a little? And if you do," he hurried on before Alexander could answer, "do you trust me? Do you trust me not to hurt you or shame you or cast you off? I know all the silly rules about love between men, I know we're supposed to outgrow each other, I know you'll have to marry one day, but I can't ever imagine not loving you, or… wanting you… If you really don't want me, I'll try to understand, as long as I know it's the truth, but…"

"I thought I knew what I wanted, I was so sure, but now…" Alexander shrugged helplessly. "I'm afraid, Hephaestion, I'm confused, and afraid and…"

"But do you trust me… my love?"

Alexander's grey eyes met Hephaestion's dark ones, and a small, weak smile touched his lips. "I trust you, but…"

As he spoke, Hephaestion leaned forward and kissed him. Alexander responded eagerly, sighing as Hephaestion slipped his arms around his waist and he threw his own around Hephaestion's neck. They broke the kiss to hold each other tightly before Hephaestion drew back, turning his head shyly away. "The letters… did you like them…?"

Alexander felt his cheeks grow hot. "Yes…"

"All of them?"

"Yes."

"Even the one where I…"

"That one… most of all."

"Then… maybe you do… want me… just a little…?"

Alexander found himself unable to respond, not yet ready to meet his friend's consuming desire head on; he remained still in Hephaestion's arms, hiding his face in his neck and clinging tightly, his whole body hot and trembling as if gripped by a fever. He felt Hephaestion stroking his hair, then his back; then his hot breath and soft lips against his cheek.

He could not yet reciprocate, but he would submit; whatever Hephaestion wanted to do, he could do. A small moan escaped him as Hephaestion kissed him once again, his tongue slipping softly between Alexander's lips and leaving behind the sweet taste of apple juice. Hesitantly Alexander met it with his own.

A wave of dizziness passed over him as he felt himself sinking, overcome by the force of new sensations; he clung to Hephaestion to stop himself falling, yet seemed able only to pull him down as well. For a moment he tried to catch hold of some support, to stop himself plunging ever downwards. But Hephaestion would not let him; his mouth was fixed upon Alexander's and the weight of his body held him under, and they tumbled together into the depths.

Suddenly they broke the surface, gasping for air. When Alexander opened his eyes the light blinded him and he struggled against it, craving the secrecy of the darkness. He tried to pull Hephaestion back down, wanting to hide from his own engulfing passion within his friend's. But Hephaestion would not yield; he looked down at Alexander with burning eyes. "What… do you want… my Alexander…?" he rasped.

"No… Hephaestion…" Alexander whimpered.

Hephaestion caressed his face with hands and mouth, murmuring soothingly. "Please tell me… tell me my love…"

"You…" Alexander moaned, his lip trembling, his eyes blurring.

"Don't cry," Hephaestion kissed his cheek, then nuzzled under his jaw, "please don't be sad… you must never feel sad when you're so _close_ to me_…_not when you've made me _so…so…_ _happy…_ I promised I'd never hurt you… _I love you so…"_

"_Hephaestion…"_ Alexander looked up at him at last. Hephaestion smiled tenderly down at him, his face alight with a happiness that had not been there since the early spring. Whatever doubts Alexander had, whatever fears haunted him, it was all worth it to see Hephaestion's joy. His heart swelling with love, he swallowed hard and said, as he returned Hephaestion's smile, "let's go to our room…"

* * *

They held hands as they walked, not speaking; not even exchanging a glance. Once there, they regarded each other in a moment of shyness before Hephaestion resolutely shed his chiton and then Alexander's. This time Alexander came eagerly, almost desperately into his embrace, letting himself be drawn down onto his bed and surrendering to Hephaestion's sensual touches to his face, chest and arms.

The first caress between his legs made him freeze, but then he relaxed with a soft moan, gasping as he felt his friend's warm kisses upon his belly, not resisting even when Hephaestion's lips brushed the inside of his thighs and shivers raced up his body. A small cry broke from him as a hand began to unwrap his loincloth; he had been naked so many times before his friend, but never when aroused. He watched Hephaestion staring down at his erection, half fearing, half longing for his touch, whimpering as Hephaestion took it in his hand, stroked it, then softly kissed it. He ought to stop him, such things were not correct, but he could not, he would not, whatever Hephaestion wanted… whatever he wanted…

But then Hephaestion suddenly looked up, his eyes filled with anxiety. "Do… do you like what I'm doing?" he asked in a whisper.

"Of - of course I do…!" Alexander panted.

"Then… will you… will you…"

Alexander stared at him for a few seconds, then realised what was needed. He could not hold back a part of him any longer, could not pretend he was still somehow divorced from what Hephaestion wanted… could not pretend that he did not want it too. With unsteady hands, he reached out and touched Hephaestion's muscular chest, stroked his shoulders, drew his head down and kissed him with a mouth opened in welcome.

* * *

Alexander had somehow expected Hephaestion to be worldly and confident afterwards, even boastful and demanding now that Alexander had finally yielded. But his friend – his _lover_ – the word now sent an odd little shiver through his midriff – remained silent and still. "Hephaestion," Alexander whispered, not moving, "what are you thinking about?"

There was a long pause. "I was thinking…" Hephaestion said in a voice so soft and intimate it sent shivers across Alexander's skin, "that I'll have to lead a very pious life from now on… because to have so much good fortune in one day… to have you, _you,_ not only lying here in my bed but doing so after we've…" He cleared his throat and went on, "we've done _this_… then surely I can't have much luck left…!"

"Oh, Hephaestion…!" Swallowing hard, Alexander longed to turn to him but he held back, confused and troubled by his own thoughts in comparison.

"And you, Alexander?" came the hesitant question.

Alexander took a deep breath. Could he really say what he thought, even to Hephaestion? Yet suddenly he knew he had to, that he could never keep secrets from his beloved again.

"You know what my mother sometimes says," he began carefully, "about… me being the son of… of Zeus…" He swallowed, feeling his face grow warm. "Sometimes I think I really believe it, she _makes_ me believe it… but sometimes I think I only _want_ to believe it, especially when my father and I… when he says or does things that hurt me so much…" A soft whimper escaped him as he felt Hephaestion's fingers begin to slide through his hair. "But now I can't believe that I'm anything but mortal, because no god could lose himself so completely as I just lost myself to you…"

Alexander felt the gentle touch halt, but he caught Hephaestion's hand before he could withdraw it. "I can't imagine I'll ever be as carefree about this as my father… but if being the son of an ordinary mortal means I can give in to feelings like this… and share… what we've just shared… then I'm happy just to be Alexander, son of Philip." He turned onto his side; kissed Hephaestion with moist, tender lips. "And I was wondering… if you haven't had enough of me yet… if you'd like to share some more…"

Before Hephaestion could answer, Alexander slid on top of him with the fluid grace of a cat, gazing down into his eyes. They smiled timidly at each other for a moment before Alexander kissed Hephaestion again.

* * *

Alexander hurried down the steps and into the courtyard. The autumnal air was fresh and crisp and carried the faintest touch of winter. "Forgive me, Father," he panted breathlessly as he ran to where Philip waited, mounted on his horse, "I forgot… my…"

Alexander halted, frowning. Between his father's horse and Bucephalus, who was pawing restlessly under the care of the groom, stood Hephaestion, looking up at the King with a wide-eyed smile. Philip noticed Alexander and grinned, leaning down to embrace his son. Alexander pressed a diffident kiss onto his bearded cheek before clambering on to Bucephalus. "I'll see you at supper, Hephaestion…"

"I'll be waiting, Alexander," Hephaestion replied, holding out his hand for Alexander to squeeze, "health to you, Sire…" he inclined his head to Philip. With a grunt of amusement, Philip reached and pinched Hephaestion's cheek before nudging his horse forward towards the woods.

Hephaestion beamed; Alexander scowled. "You little flirt!" he hissed over his shoulder, "just you wait until I return…!"

"Oh, I will," Hephaestion winked at him, "I will…"

They spurred their horses forward, enjoying the fresh brightness of the day; all about them the cool greenery had exploded into a firestorm of reds, oranges and yellows. When at last Philip reigned in his horse, he turned to Alexander with a glint in his eye. "I hope you're keeping a close eye on Amyntor's son," he said meaningfully, giving a nod towards Bucephalus, "don't be so busy with your black stallion you don't notice someone stealing your wild colt! I know that look well… someone's made a man of him!"

Alexander cringed, feeling his face burning as brightly red as the autumn leaves about them, and studiously avoided his father's probing gaze.

"Well I'll be damned!" Philip threw back his head and laughed, slapping Alexander on the back so hard he nearly knocked him off his horse. "Didn't I tell you you're my son? Come on, race the old man – if you can find the energy!" With that, he dug in his heels once more, leaving the overheated Alexander to pursue as best he could.


End file.
